Forever a Queen
by wolfgirlalways
Summary: "Once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen." -C.S. Lewis. Just because Lucy was back in England did not mean that she was not a queen. A series of one-shots that show Lucy acting as a queen ought to
1. Brave

Lucy watched the other kids as the raced about in the school yard during their recess. She hugged her books to her chest as her eyes changed the picture before her eyes. Instead of uniformed school children, running and chasing, she saw nymphs and fawns, dwarves and centaurs as they danced in the meadows. A small cry brought her mind back to the present. It never occurred to Lucy to get help as she went towards the cry. A small girl sat on the ground, her face red. Two boys, not much older, stood over her. One held out his hand.

It never occurred to her to be scared. Because what were to boys to the white witches entire army?

"This hardly seems fair." Lucy said, unconsciously using her 'other' voice. The one she used to command the respect and attention of marching armies.

The boys, bigger and meaner, turned to her but Lucy did not falter, because queens, no matter how small, were **brave**.

"What's it to you?" one of the boys demanded.

"It's something to me because no one should allow dark deeds to be done." She said calmly.

"What?" the kid asked.

"This is dumb." One boy said stepping forward to crowd Lucy, who just smiled her sunny smile up at him. He grew confused and angry when she didn't react as most kids and cower.

"Brat." He said, taking a swing that she calmly side stepped. She reached a hand out to the scared little girl and helped her to her feet.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, aware that the violent boy was stepping closer. Once more she ducked quickly and quickly sidestepped. With one hand to his back he went sprawling.

"Come." She said to the young girl, who slipped her hand into Lucy's. Together they walked out as the boy stood with the help of his friend. the brave little queen never looked back.


	2. Compassionate

Peter knew that spark in his sisters eyes. She was up to something. It was the look that every person at Cair Paraval new well, one that usually meant hours of chaos and headaches as the Queen had recruited helpers to whatever cause she had taken up, from decorating for a 'surprise' birthday party for someone who lived at the Cair to getting supplies to the Narnians who needed them most.

This spark had Lucy sitting into the night many nights in a row quietly knitting.

"Would you walk with me Peter?" Lucy asked one day, as she had apparently finished whatever had kept her occupied.

"Mum wanted us to stay in."

"Peter." She said, in her queen voice. "We shan't be long. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important." Peter reluctantly agreed. He could deny her nothing.

He watched as she carefully wrapped up against the cold and gathered the basket she had carefully packed.

Together they walked through the winter cold to a small house that looked tired and worn. Lucy confidently marched forward and knocked on the door. A tired young woman answered the door, a child on her hip.

"Hello ma'am." Lucy said with her sunny smile. "May we come in?"

The woman nodded warily and stepped back.

When they stood in the small entry Lucy turned to the woman.

"I'm sorry about your husband ma'am. He was always kind." The woman studied the young girl in front of her and didn't see a young child speaking, but a mature young woman who was no stranger for hardship. Nothing about the golden haired child spoke of pity, just calm understanding. She finally broke into the prickling of tears, letting them spill over in front of this child with too old eyes.

"May I?" Peter asked. He accepted the wailing child and rocked him into a calm before looking up to see Lucy and the woman sitting on the couch as she cried and Lucy murmured quietly.

Peter stepped closer to hear Lucy.

"…not very good. But I'm getting better." She said pulling out the scarves, hats and gloves she had been working on. "They are warm though."

"Thank you." The woman said, sincerity ringing in her words.

"I also had my sister make cookies. I'm dreadful at baking." Lucy's smile warmed the tired woman's heart.

"If you ever need someone to help watch the children, my sibling and I would be more than willing to help, we just live on the next street."

Peter smiled as he watched the **compassion** with which the young Queen spoke in same way familiar way she had spoken to her subjects at the Cair, after sitting with them and learning their struggles.

When they left the widowed mother smiled her first true smile in months and felt as if she had the strength to continue again, thanks to the young girl and her handmade scarves to keep her and children warm through the winter. When she wore them she felt not only physical warmth but the warmth of love.

As Lucy walked away, her arm looped through her brothers the compassionate Queen smiled.

A/N if any of you would like to see a specific trait for Lucy to show let me know in a review of PM and i will try to write it and give you a shoutout in the chapter.


	3. Inspiring

A/N this chapter is dedicated to servant123 who suggested the trait in this chapter :) thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews.

There was nothing good to be found in that small dingy little hospital. Dorean Mathews knew that this space, shared with twenty other injured soldiers, was going to be the place he died. It was a place for soldiers who had no family or money and it was forgotten by many. Most men here received no visitors and few had any hope of surviving. Even the very light seemed to shun the place and deny the inhabitants it's warm golden glow. Dorean drifted to sleep, among the groans of the wounded and the soft spoken murmurs from caregivers.

When Dorean woke he knew that something was different. The light seemed less oppressive and the moans less. Slowly, painfully he lifted his head and saw a young golden haired girl bent over one of the cots. She spoke with him for a while before moving on. She repeated the process, with each and every man in the line, before moving to the next. Dorean held his breath as his turn came, unsure of what to make of this strange visitor.

"hello." She said in a clear voice that rang merrily.

"Hello." Dorean found himself answering automatically.

"I'm Lucy Pevensie." She said settling on the edge of his cot.

"Dorean."

"Well Dorean it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Aren't you too young to see all this?" Dorean blurted.

Lucy's smile was like the rising sun.

"I suppose I must look it, don't I?"

Dorean nodded.

"Let me see." She said, and Dorean complied. She spoke with the same authority his commanders in the war had. Her order was quieter but just as forceful. Whoever Lucy Penvensie was she was used to people obeying her. Not like a spoiled rich child, but more like a seasoned general, addressing her troops.

Dorean lifted the blanket to reveal the foot he tried not to look at. Lucy's bright face turned hard as she bent over and pulled supplies out.

Carefully she bathed the wound and applied a poultice.

"Tell me about yourself, Dorean." Lucy requested as she worked. Dorean looked at her expressive face as he talked, mechanically at first, but with more feeling as he opened further. By the time his leg was tucked under the blanket, tears were pouring down his cheeks as he spoke in faltering sentences.

Lucy looked into his eyes, and in her eyes he read calm understanding.

"Don't you think you're too young to have given up all hope?" Lucy asked in a quiet voice. She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before squeezing his hand and moving on down the line. Dorean thought of his life and her soft words as he watched the golden haired girl work her way, talking, laughing, and caring for the wounded men who most of the world had forgotten. She was the light that Dorean needed most to see that day. How she had come to be there, he would never know, but for those young soldiers, who needed someone to show them that those they fought for hadn't forgotten them, she was there, with soft words of encouragement and medical knowledge beyond her years.

As she stood to head to the door, Dorean saw a stray shaft of sunlight catch her in it's golden rays. To this day Dorean wasn't sure if it was the fervor he burned with that made the young child grow into a young woman, wearing a flowing gown and a silver crown amid her golden curls. The woman turned and smiled softly at the men. When Dorean blinked the image was gone, as was the young girl.

(-)Three Years Later (-)

Dorean hadn't died in that hospital. He'd woken the next morning, to warm sunlight. The doctor had looked to his leg and pronounced him on the mend. One week later he was released. He's served faithfully in the military for another year before coming home to work as a police officer. As he worked to clear the ruble from a train wreck one day, he stopped and paused, his eyes filling with tears.

"Do you know her?" his partner asked in a gentle voice.

"I did." Dorean answered, his eyes surveying the golden haired child, who looked to be sleeping amid the rubble and chaos around her. Dorean closed his eyes once and thought back to the Queen he had seen in that ray of sunlight.

"How?" his partners voice questioned, disrupting his thoughts.

"She saved a dying soldier,_** inspired**_ him to live again." He looked to his partner, unashamed of the tears. "She gave me the_** hope**_ to live again."

A/N for the other reviewers, i will write the chapter for your suggestions and will post them as the ideas come.


	4. Intelligent

A/N This chapter is dedicated to DJnamedCJ (With dots after D, J And C fanciction won't allow me to publish the name as it is spelled. I am sorry for that) for suggesting the trait in this chapter

Mrs. Lovestock had had many students in her twenty years of teaching and some stood out in her mind more than others for many reasons. Lucy Pevensie was one such student. Lucy was as sweet a child as any she had ever taught, even after the war. Some of her children had become quiet and withdrawn after the war, but not sunny little Lucy. But for all her smiles and happiness it was not for that reason that she stood out. Mrs. Lovestock was remembering a specific day, and a little child whose eyes seemed older than her years. It was after children had returned to school and soldiers where slowly returning to their homes. The day had started as any other…

_Mrs. Lovestock had planned a special lesson to help children understand the war that many where having trouble coping with._

_She'd turned to the class and eyed them all before beginning to speak._

_"Who can tell me what war is?" She asked._

_A young boy raised his hand._

_"Yes Michal?"_

_"A war is when dads and brothers go to fight bad men." The boy answered solemnly._

_"Very good. A war is when our men leave their home to fight for others." She explained. She'd hoped to help the children understand how brave their soldiers had been, and the reasons for fighting._

_"Our soldiers are fighting to help others who cannot fight for themselves." She explained to her students. "And they are fighting to help make us safe, so men who might hurt us cannot can't come here."_

_"Why would the bad men come here?" Clara asked, "And why did my dad have to fight."_

_The teacher was about to explain when Lucy had raised her hand, her eyes downcast._

_"yes Lucy?"_

_"Some men want things that are not theirs. They choose to take these things, regardless of the cost, pain and death of others. They only see the goal, and they only see the men who might oppose them as obstacles in their path. They will do anything to get to the finish goal." Lucy had looked to the teacher, her eyes too full and knowledge, and more than that. This precious child not only knew these facts, she had the **intelligence** to understand the words she was speaking and their consequences. Mrs. Lovestock chose to let her continue._

_"The men do not care that this is your home, it is just another battleground. Your father chose to fight to keep these men away. He chose to put your safety and happiness above his own. War is ugly and scary, but your father chose to face that every day. He chose to fight for your right to live and make decisions; to keep those men away from you so that you could learn and grow and love. He fought because he loves you so much just as every one of our soldiers went to face those bed men, because they had someone at home, who they wanted to be safe."_

_Lucy met her teacher's eyes and nodded once. Mrs. Lovestock had seen things in that gaze, things not meant to be known by a young child. Things of war and death. The teacher had no idea how this** intelligent** young child had come by this information, but she admired the way Lucy handled it, better than most adults with grace and poise befitting a Queen. For a moment, Lucy's bearing was that of royalty, strong and courageous. Mrs. Lovestock blinked and the moment was gone. Once more she was an ordinary teacher in a classroom and Lucy was just a bright young student._

Mrs. Lovestock had never forgotten young Lucy Pevensie and the way she had answered the difficult question with intelligence and poise. And so, many years later, when an article reported the names of those unfortunate souls that had lost their lives in a railway crash, Mrs. Lovestock was there to place a rose for the bright young student, she would never forget. And later that evening she would pray that the young girl with** intelligent** eyes could find happiness in her afterlife.

A/N I am very sorry this took so long to get out, i haven't had much time to write lately. To make up for it the next chapter is written and will be posted tomorrow after final edits. I hope you all enjoyed and thanks for reading. Let me know what you think. -wolfgirl


	5. Resilient

A/N this is dedicated to .elysium who suggested the trait that i wrote about. I know i said this would be up days ago but i lost internet for a while anywho here it is.

Peter opened the door to his house and was met by the open arms of his mother.

"You've grown so tall." His mother beamed as she eyed him. "Welcome home." She said, hugging him close.

"It's good to be home." Peter answered, as his arms encircled his mother.

"You've just missed almost everyone. Susan went to tea with a few of her friends and Ed and your father went out fishing. Your father thinks Ed needs some cheering up, and you weren't expected until late this afternoon."

"Is he ok?" Peter asked shrugging out of coat.

"He says he's fine, but he gets a bit melancholy when he thinks no one is looking. He's been that way since returning from Harold and Alberta's. Heaven knows what tricks that boy of theirs was up to." His mother sniffed at the thought of their stuffy relations.

"Is Lu home then?" Peter asked.

"She's just upstairs reading." His mother answered.

"I think I'll run up and surprise her then." Peter smiled as he kissed his mothers cheek and bounded up the stairs, excited to see his youngest sister, surprised by how much he had missed each of his siblings.

When he knocked and received permission to enter he stood in the doorway studying his sister, who hadn't looked up yet. She was perched on the foot of her bed staring at a hand drawn photo taped to the wall. A ship of Narnian make was breaking through the crest of a wave. as a young mermaid broke through the water nearby, a gentle smile on her face. Figures dotted the deck, some working some walking and some gathered around a sword fight. Peter couldn't place the unfamiliar flag that waved in the wind.

"It's a wonderful drawing," Peter finally spoke, "I'm not sure I recognize the flag though."

In a moment he was knocked back a step as his arms became full of his younger sister, when she sprang at him with a surprised yell of "Peter."

"It's good to see you Lu." He said with a laugh, hugging her.

She smiled up at him and he was surprised to see dried tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Want to talk?" He asked gently leading her over to the bed.

"It's Caspian's." She said as she sat and looked to the drawing again. "The flag and the ship are his. Eustace drew this for me."

"Eustace?" Peter asked, confused and surprised. " How?"

"We've been back, though not to Narnia proper." Lucy answered him. "It began with a painting…" She began as she began her tale. Peter listened attentively to her story, surprised in some places and outraged in others (_**his** sister, the Queen, captured by slavers_, he thought angrily to himself).

Lucy paused before her final sentence. She looked at her brother solemnly. "He has told me I shall not return." Lucy informed her brother quietly. They were both quiet for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Are you ok?" Peter asked. He knew how much Narnia meant to Lucy, and how much it had hurt to hear he would never return.

He watched as Lucy stared at the photo, her pain in her eyes. He knew that she needed time to think and he was willing to give it to her, and be there for her.

Finally she drew her eyes away from the picture to look at him.

"My Narnia has been gone for many years. The Cair Paraval where I learned to bake with Mrs. Beaver was lost. The Great Lawn where we danced with the Fawns has grown with trees. The beaver's dam on the river has long since floated away. Mr. Tumnus's cave is lost to time. And yet, when I traveled there to help Caspian attain his throne, it was not the Narnia I remembered but it was still home. The trees moved and spoke the satyrs and nymphs still danced. The animals were still friendly. And even when I went to travel to the Isles, not ever stepping foot on Narnia proper, even when my name had faded to a mostly forgotten legend, it was still home. It was the same salt air, breaking waves and adventure I remembered from our days as rulers ."

Lucy paused. "It was home because there I know Aslan is near." She smiled softly at the picture and Peter noticed the lions head drawn into a corner.

"But I have just realized something." She told Peter her voice determined.

"Once Aslan crowned me a queen I will forever be a queen. Should I falter for a moment's pain? I have realized Aslan loves us, and is never far. Here I can be at home to, because Aslan loves me just as much her as in Narnia." Lucy's smile was like the sun. "It might sting, to know that I will never dance with satyrs and fauns, or bake with beavers. But I will never be without Aslan's love." She hugged her brother tightly.

"I'm wonderful; Narnia has taught me of His love."

Peter knew that her words were true; the **resilient** Queen was ok with not being able to return, for the best part of Narnia was Aslan, and he was as much present here as in Narnia. As Peter held his sister in a hug a ray of light broke through the clouds and shone on them through the window. Peter smiled as he heard the lions roar.

A/N. thanks to all the reviews alerts and favorites for this story. Thanks you all for reading i hope you enjoyed -wolfgirl


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